"You better say that again outside!"

"Hey, don't beat yourself up, man. Your skills are still lousy, and you're as forgetful as ever. But let’s be real, you're almost 30. Men peak around 30, but it's also normal to start slipping a little."

The man's expression darkened considerably. This woman spoke like a seasoned critic, casually evaluating his abilities. He wanted to argue back, but his memory came up empty—he'd never been with a woman before, so he had no proof to counter her claims. He gritted his teeth and corrected her, "Woman, I'm 29. Is it appropriate to call me 'old man' every time you speak?"

His appearance was undeniably striking. Among the stars at a Hollywood gala, he'd stand out as one of the most handsome. At 29, he exuded a confident maturity, making him an ideal match for women seeking romance. And he was Khai Howell, a powerhouse in the business world. Just his name alone commanded immense respect.

"But I'm only 22! There's a seven-year gap between us! So, really, calling you 'old man' is just being generous," Maeve Riley quipped.

Khai's grip tightened ever so slightly, "You're 22? And you had that child three years ago, which means you gave birth at 19, so you were with me at 18..."

Maeve initially wanted to conceal her age, but she knew that if Khai had come looking for her, he had already done his homework. She could bluff about a child, but her birthdate was set in stone. She laughed coolly and, under Khai's scrutiny, spun her tale, "Yes, yes. Maybe I was just too attractive back then, and you couldn't help yourself."

Khai scrutinized her calm demeanor, showing no signs of deception. He growled, "You better not be lying to me!"

"I swear, not a single lie. If I’m lying, may lightning strike me," she swore.

—Of course, technically, she wasn’t lying, because it was all made up. Maeve maintained her innocent and charming facade. Khai seemed to accept it, leaning against the wall and releasing her arm. He stood tall, casting a shadow over her, eyes gleaming with intensity as he asked, "Your name."

Maeve was taken aback. He had come all this way and still didn’t know her name? "My name is none of your..." The word 'business' was interrupted as his commanding presence silenced her defiance. "Maeve Riley," she finally conceded.

"Maeve Riley," he repeated, her name rolling off his tongue with a deep, melodic resonance that made her ears grow warm. "Still in school?"

"Yes," she replied. "I've been juggling work and studies all these years just to provide for your child. Look at these hands, worn and weary."

She hoped to stir his guilt, to wipe the smugness from his face so he would leave her alone. But to her surprise, Khai lifted her hand, examining it closely. Though he'd never touched another woman's hand, Maeve's was soft and smooth, addictively so. Suppressing his feelings, he spoke slowly, "Understood."

Wait, what did he mean by that? It sounded like he was signing a contract!

"Now that you understand, you should..." she began, secretly praying he'd vanish from her life. But before she could finish, Khai cut her off with unexpected words.

"I'll take responsibility," he declared.

No! This was not what she wanted!

Is he out of his mind?

Maeve jerked her hand back as if burned and took a breath to steady herself. "No, I don't need you to take responsibility. We live in different worlds. My focus isn't on this; I have my own dreams, my ambitions, my future. Once I leave the child with you, I'll focus on myself. So if you feel any guilt, treat Eli well. As for me, just consider me gone. Well then, old man, goodbye forever," she said, waving her hand dismissively before turning to leave.

Initially, Khai had questioned her intentions in seeking him out, but after tonight, he realized Maeve had no hidden motives. Instead, there was a deliberate distance about her. Her attitude only increased his curiosity, prompting him to delve deeper into her life to discover the truth. He was particularly interested in why every other woman triggered his old symptoms, yet she, even in close proximity, did not.

His dark, enigmatic gaze lingered on Maeve, filled with intrigue.

Maeve opened the door, eager to escape this complicated mess, only to be blocked by a woman radiating hostility.

"Maeve Riley, you're really here!" Aliza George stood with a cadre of henchmen, all clad in black and looking stern.

Maeve had expected this confrontation, knowing Aliza would soon face the consequences of her own actions. Aliza's eyes were bloodshot, glaring at Maeve with intense fury.

Maeve elegantly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Khai's words today had bolstered her confidence—he already believed Eli was his son. With Eli secured, Maeve had no other concerns.

She lifted her chin defiantly, "Oh, here to beg for forgiveness?"

"Beg? You trash, you're finished, and you're still so arrogant!"

"Please, let’s not act. Compared to you, dear Miss Aliza, with your rotten heart and dubious reputation, don’t pretend you’re pure," Maeve replied, her words heavy with implication.

As expected, Aliza's face flushed with rage. Her hand shot up, ready to strike Maeve, "I'm not pure? And you're any better? Broke with a gambling father and a kid; how do you even manage? Oh right, you probably turned down the older man I set up for you, opting for another. Does the one you found have better skills or more money? Pathetic!"

Maeve, determined not to stoop to Aliza's level, snapped at the mention of Eli. In a flash, she delivered a swift kick, causing Aliza to crash to the ground.

"Ah!!" Aliza's scream echoed.

"What are you standing there for? Get her! Anyone who brings her down tonight gets a hundred grand in cash!"

Wealth could make the impossible possible. The moment a hundred thousand dollars was mentioned, the hired thugs sprang into action, rolling up their sleeves, ready to send Maeve Riley to her doom.

They were no strangers to such shady dealings, especially with George Corporation backing them.

Just as they brandished their weapons, poised in front of Maeve, a tall figure stepped forward to shield her.

"Who dares to lay a finger on her?"

Aliza George's head shot up, taken aback by the commanding presence and looks of the man protecting Maeve. She had always considered Khai Howell, the man she fancied, to be exceptional. Yet, standing before this man made Khai seem less impressive by comparison.

However, seeing such an attractive man standing up for Maeve left her bewildered.

"Handsome, don't be fooled by Maeve Riley's charms. Do you have any idea about her scandalous private life? Just the other night, she was with an old man for money, and now she's here to string you along. Aren't you worried about catching something?"

Maeve, nestled securely in Khai Howell's embrace, scoffed at the baseless accusations. Her lips curled into a sardonic smile. "Aliza, if you have time for tall tales, perhaps you should first see a doctor to check if you contracted anything that night. Besides..."

Maeve's delicate hand playfully traced Khai's chest, tugging on his tie to draw him closer. Her voice was a sweet tease, "Honey, if I'm not even interested in you, how could I possibly be with another man, let alone end up in bed with one?"

Khai was momentarily speechless but found her logic quite convincing.

Was she clarifying just to prevent him from misunderstanding her? A strange emotion flickered through him. He swallowed, gently removing her hand from his tie and holding it softly in his palm, his voice deep and husky. "Hmm."

Aliza's eyes widened in disbelief. Did he actually buy it?

Feeling utterly ignored infuriated her. She was like a ruffled hen, shouting, "What are you standing around for? Don’t you want that hundred thousand?! Get them!"

The mention of a hundred thousand dollars snapped the thugs back to attention, and they reached aggressively for their weapons.

But before they could move, they were stopped by Khai's piercing gaze, freezing them in their tracks.

With a cool demeanor, Khai spoke, his words carrying undeniable authority, "A million, I want her life."

Khai held a check between his fingers, the string of zeros making the thugs' eyes gleam with greed.

They weren't fools; they immediately questioned the check's authenticity. But looking at the man's expensive attire and innate authoritative presence, they were certain he was someone significant.

The lead thug swallowed hard, almost ready to reach for the check, only for Maeve to deftly snatch it away.

"Honey, you can’t just throw money around like that. Besides, there are seven of them here. How could they divide it fairly?"

Seeing her pout and the mischievous grin on her face, Khai found himself asking, almost without thinking, "So, what do you suggest?"

Maeve clutched the check, tempted to pocket it herself. But with Khai watching, she refrained from being overt.

Pointing at Aliza, she suggested playfully, "How about this? A thousand per slap. I'll referee and even record it for you. You seven can earn as much as you want, and when we're done, come to me to collect."

She waved the million-dollar check enticingly at the seven thugs.

Aliza shouted in disbelief, "Who dares?!"

Maeve offered a gentle reminder, "Oh dear, my phone’s about to die. So let’s say five minutes only. Once the recording ends, all this easy money would just slip away."

The thugs had grown tired of Aliza’s demanding demeanor. Despite her glamorous front, she was stingy with them, paying just a thousand dollars a month while expecting them to commit various misdeeds.

Seeing her sneering at them only fueled their frustration.

"Guys, let's give her what she deserves!"

"This woman kicked me twice last week, nearly breaking my back. Watch me turn her into a pig today!"

One thug even asked Maeve, "Miss, do we earn more for kicks?"

Maeve quickly calculated, "Sure, a slap is a thousand, a kick's a thousand fifty. Just leave her alive, please."

That’s why Maeve stepped in—she didn’t want Khai to bear such a burden.

"Got it! Everyone, you heard? Go for it!"

The thugs swarmed Aliza, who never imagined such a fate.

The room echoed with the sound of slaps and Aliza’s cries, like a symphony that refused to end.

"Maeve Riley, you'll get yours!"

Despite her swollen mouth, Aliza screamed hysterically.

Maeve, filming the scene to calculate wages, sighed, "Come on, folks, she's still talking after all this?"

"Sorry, miss, I'll shut her up now!"

"Slap, slap, slap!" Aliza's face endured another barrage, her lips bleeding, staining her neck—a pitiful sight. Yet her semblance of a malevolent spirit drew no sympathy.

When the five minutes concluded, Maeve distributed the thugs’ wages accordingly.

Aliza lay like a broken doll on the ground, her fingers clawing at the floor, tears streaming. She vowed to repay Maeve’s humiliation a hundredfold.

"Bro, get her to the hospital. Here's 800, use it for an initial checkup."

With the air of a professional accountant, Maeve filled out the checkbook for Khai. Once the payments were done, she looked up at Khai, waiting for praise.

"Honey, have you learned anything? Even billionaires should value sustainable practices. I've just saved you a good five million by changing tactics. So, how about you..."

Her eyes twinkled with hope.

"Alright, this five million, I’ll keep it," Khai said nonchalantly, tucking the half-completed checkbook into his pocket.

Maeve was silent. Five million, gone just like that. This damn capitalist! Hope he enjoys saving it for his casket!

"Ha." Maeve shot him a cold smile. "Thank you, honey. I'll be off now. If you want to unwind, I can send some pretty ladies your way. Have a lovely evening."

She waved dismissively, attempting a graceful exit.

But from behind, Khai's deep, captivating voice called out.

"Maeve."

His voice, like a siren's song, quickened her heartbeat.

"Tonight, I want you to stay with me."

The suggestive tone caught her off guard. Surely, he didn’t mean... that, did he?

Just a moment ago, Khai Howell's phone lit up with persistent calls from his grandfather, Jovanni Shaw. After sending it to voicemail for the eighth time, a barrage of WhatsApp messages appeared on his screen.

"Kid, the girl from the West family is your childhood friend. It's already 7:30 PM, and you still haven't shown up. Are you trying to drive me to an early grave?"

"Reach out to her immediately. If you miss this meeting again, I'll make sure your entire company feels it!"

"You have exactly 10 minutes to message her. If you don't, I'll jump out the window, and you'll be the one burying me!"

"Only 8 minutes left!"

[Coffin emoji]

Jovanni sent a coffin emoji, a not-so-subtle reminder that if Khai stood up Miss West again tonight, he'd be pushing his grandfather closer to the grave.

Khai sighed deeply, sliding his phone into his suit pocket.

The Miss West his grandfather mentioned was Zara West, the cherished youngest of the West family, who had been doted on by her five older brothers all her life. The Wests were nearly as prominent in London as the Howells were.

Even before their children were born, the families had arranged their engagement. Only after five sons did the Wests finally have their treasured daughter.

Khai had met Zara a few times during their childhood, remembering her as the little girl who liked to cling to him, calling him "brother." She was absolutely adorable, with a gentle voice and a sweet disposition.

When Zara was five, she disappeared. A decade later, she returned to the West family, and Khai couldn't shake the feeling that the Zara he knew as a child was different from the grown-up version standing before him.

Zara, however, remained fond of Khai and openly expressed her affections when they reunited, despite Khai seeing her only as a sister. He had made this clear countless times, emphasizing that he didn't share her romantic feelings.

Yet, Zara persisted, sending countless letters each year filled with dreams of their future together.

To Khai, Zara was the only "sister" he had truly cared for. Because of this bond, he didn't want to hurt her more than necessary. However, if he didn't clarify their relationship during this visit, Zara might end up being hurt the most.

So, he decided—

"Maeve Riley, I need you to come with me tonight."

Maeve stopped in her tracks, turning around with a puzzled look. "Hang on, mister, I'm not that kind of girl!"

Khai chuckled, "What are you thinking? Do you really believe I'd be interested in someone as short as you?"

"I'm short?!" Maeve rolled her eyes in disdain. "I'm at least 5'3", and with the right guy, it's a perfect height difference. Unlike you, who's so tall all you can see is dandruff!"

Khai had never met someone who disliked tall people before, and her words brought a rare amused smile to his usually stoic face.

"You mentioned you only offer your talents. What talents do you have?"

Maeve straightened up confidently, "Talents? I've got plenty—singing, dancing, handling kids, self-defense, English, Japanese, Korean, French, advanced English, computer skills, public speaking perfection, pastry chef, accounting, firefighter certification, childcare expertise, and a five-star household management credential. If I listed them all, it would take ages."

Khai was impressed by her capabilities and felt a pang of guilt. If he had kept her by his side after their past encounter, would she have had to work so hard?

Khai's long lashes lowered slightly, and he pressed his lips into a firm line. "Alright, I'll pay for your time."

Khai elegantly tore a check from his book and handed it to her. "I only need you for ten minutes tonight to help me record a video. Once we're finished, the check is yours, with no limit on the amount."

He figured she had pursued all those certifications due to financial necessity, so he concocted this opportunity to give her money without hurting her pride.

He expected Maeve to politely refuse, but to his surprise—

"Sorry, mister, I must’ve been sleepwalking. Let me rephrase that." She cleared her throat and then flashed a dazzling smile. "Sure thing, mister. What kind of video do you need? As long as it’s not anything dodgy, I'm in."

Her coy, sweet voice made Khai's self-control falter.

He frowned slightly, trying to dispel inappropriate thoughts from his mind. "Don't worry, I only need a shot of your back."

The task seemed simple enough, and with such a lucrative offer, Maeve had no inclination to question why Khai needed this unusual video.

Regardless of the reason, she was only interested in the money.

"Alright, where should we go to film?"

Felipe Lewis, who had been observing the conversation nearby like an audience at a live drama, finally snapped out of his stupor to fulfill his duties.

"Khai, I studied cinematography in college. Let me handle it!"

Realizing that filming single-handedly would be awkward, Khai agreed. "Alright." With that single word, he acknowledged Felipe's usefulness.

Felipe felt an exhilarating thrill. How lucky was he to get to shoot a romantic video for the typically aloof Khai Howell?

"The video should keep her identity under wraps. I don't want the Wests to find out and cause her trouble," Khai instructed.

Felipe understood immediately—this was all to make Zara reconsider her pursuit.

"Got it. Please, Khai, and Miss Riley, head to the lounge. It's quieter, making it easier to pose."

"Pose?" Maeve asked, puzzled.

Felipe quickly explained, "Miss Riley, this video aims to deter a persistent admirer. So, you need to make it look like you and Khai are close."

Felipe gestured, instructing them, "You're supposed to be a couple, so standing so far apart won't work. Yes, get closer, wrap your arms around his waist, and lean into him..."

Maeve hesitated, "Isn't that too intimate?"

Felipe swiftly drew Maeve aside, painting Khai as the victim of an overly obsessed admirer. As an executive assistant, Felipe's persuasive storytelling quickly swayed Maeve to sympathize with Khai.

Outraged, she exclaimed, "Seriously? People do that?"

"Yes, absolutely shameless. So, to make her give up, you need to act close to Khai, maybe even make her jealous enough to walk away."

"Got it, leave it to me!"

Revitalized, Maeve returned to Khai's side, slipping effortlessly into her role.

"Ready when you are," she announced.

Felipe signaled with an "ok" gesture and hit record on his phone, saying, "Action."

At his cue, Maeve threw her arms around Khai, laughing playfully as she nestled into his embrace.

Her height was just right for pressing against the warmth of his chest. He smelled incredible, an intoxicating scent. She tried to calm her racing heart as her soft hands encircled his waist, feeling his toned abs beneath her touch.

The intense male presence almost took her breath away, but Khai seemed even more affected.

As she pressed herself to him, he felt a softness he had never known.

Maeve's fragrance was like a potent allure, making his dark eyes deepen, almost spilling over like ink.

He reflexively wrapped his arm around her slim waist. His white shirt absorbed her warm breath, heating his skin beneath it...